A Yawp
by Sandylee007
Summary: The flame had been burning out long before that fateful night. Four people catch a small glimpse of the Neil Perry hiding behind a carefully created character. None of them managed to foresee just how badly things would go wrong. ONESHOT WARNING OF TRIGGERING CONTENT


A/N: Awkay… I should be working on another typing project but this wanted to come out so badly that I couldn't stop it. (smirks sheepishly) I saw this movie a few days ago and fell madly in love with it. One of the saddest and most beautiful movies I've ever seen!

DISCLAIMER: Pfft…! Like I'd ever own anything of a masterpiece like this. But it's really cool to borrow the characters, even if only for a little bit.

**A STRONG WORD OF WARNING:** This story contains content some may consider very triggering. Let me assure you, before anyone even comes to think of it, that I DO NOT idealize suicide. It's always a tragic decision that damages several lives beyond repair. If you EVER have the kind of thoughts that Neil did in the movie, TALK TO SOMEONE. Don't throw away your life!

Awkay… I'm VERY nervous right now so I'd better get to it before I change my mind. (gulps) I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

**_A Yawp_**

* * *

Graham Perry – or Mr. Perry, as everyone seemed to refer to him as – was proud of his son.

Neil was everything one could expect of a good son. Obedient. Hard working. Excelled. He himself was nothing short of average. But Neil… Neil was something else. His son would be able to achieve all of those things that he'd only dreamt of. His boy would become something amazing. And he'd do whatever it'd take to not let that talent go to waste.

He glanced briefly towards Neil while their journey towards a new school year continued. "You studied hard over the summer", he awknowledged. "Are we clear on which classes you should attend this year?"

Neil looked towards him for a moment and nodded, then focused on staring through the window. For a while there was something foreign in those eyes but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. "Yes, sir."

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "Good. We can't have you wasting time on something useless. It won't be long until you're already studying medicine."

"What if that isn't what I want?"

Those words came as such a surprise that he almost drove off the road. For a entirely too long while he stared at his son, trying to determine whether the boy had been serious. "Of course it's what you want!" he yelled, incredulous. "It's what we've been working for! It's the reason why your mother and I have been doing everything we can to make sure you can go to this expensive school!"

For a second, two, three Neil stared at him and he felt tempted to wonder what his son saw. In the end the teen averted his gaze, face unreadable. "I'm sorry. It was just a thought."

He sighed. "Well, in that case you'd better forget it quickly. You're going to be a doctor soon enough. You can't have useless ideas like that. Is that understood?"

"Yes, father."

The rest of the journey was completed in a silence, with both of them deep in thought.

* * *

John Keating had thought that he'd prepare for his class early but apparently he wasn't the only one with such an idea. Neil was already sitting there, tapping his desk restlessly with a pen and staring at a blank sheet of paper. Seeing the look in the boy's eyes John frowned, feeling a icy shiver of dread.

'Trapped' was the only word he could think of.

It was around then Neil noticed him. Astonishingly quickly the teen managed to create his trademark grin. "Good morning, captain."

John smiled as well despite the ball forming in the pit of his stomach and nodded. "Good morning." He glanced towards the paper. "I assume that that might be your poem for today?"

Neil swallowed and looked away. Embarrassment and frustration were almost palpable in the air around the student. "I'm sorry. There's just… I tried but I wasn't able to focus."

John mused what might be the correct way of approach. Upon trying to decide he made his way to his own desk and began to prepare for the class, knowing that staring would only make the boy feel uncomfortable. "Is it something you might want to share?" he offered in the end.

Neil thought about it, long and hard. In the end there was a half-hearted shake of head. The pen kept tapping furiously and for the longest time that was the only sound in the room.

Eventually John decided that enough was enough. There was something on his student's mind that needed to be unleashed and he planned on doing just that. "Before you leave a mark on your desk… Why don't you just voice what's bothering you."

Neil swallowed loudly, which was a sure sign that whatever the teen was about to say didn't come easily. "If you were told that you'll never get to teach again… What would you do?"

John looked at the boy. How ironic. Just when a response would've been sorely needed all words failed him.

Then his chance was gone. Students began to crowd the class, chattering loudly, and the Neil he was used to seeing took over. For the rest of his life John wondered how he should've replied.

* * *

When Todd Anderson first woke up, confused and still more than halfway asleep, he was sure that it was the morning. Why else would Neil have been up and about, muttering something barely audible? He frowned and shifted just enough to check the time.

It was three in the morning.

Todd's frown deepened, as did his confusion. He turned his gaze towards his roommate, who was sitting on his bed, focused intently on a book in a light that couldn't be good for the teen's eyes. "Neil, what are you doing?"

Neil shivered and looked quickly towards him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." The boy gestured towards the book. Was that hand trembling? "I'm just trying to catch up on chemistry. I haven't had enough time with the rehearsals and I can't let my grades suffer." It was meant to be light but that tone was a bit too tight, too uneven, too… desperate, almost.

Todd blinked twice. As far as he knew Neil was a honor student. Surely the boy had no need to worry about his grades?

While Neil got lost on the book once more Todd took a couple of stolen moments to _really_ look at his friend. There were dark circles around the other teen's eyes. Tension was clearly visible all over the hunched figure. Figure that'd grown far too thin as of lately, Todd noticed all of a sudden and tried to remember the last time he saw his friend eat properly. (There were rehearsals, studying, _everything_ – no time to eat or sleep.) What worried him the most, however, were those eyes. Neil was surely a splendid actor. Most of the time the boy managed to maintain a joyful, carefree and confident mask. But not tonight. That look was haunted and anxious, full of despair.

"Are you okay?" slipped out before Todd even noticed it.

Neil's gaze was full of surprise, even startled, when it met his. It took longer than it was probably supposed to before the teen managed to smile. That brief laugh didn't sound right. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Todd swallowed and squirmed with discomfort. Trying to find the words, the courage. "Y-you just look tired", was all he managed in the end. "Try to get some sleep."

Neil nodded absentmindedly, once again focusing on the book. "I will, in a bit. Sorry if I've kept you up."

Todd had no idea what to say to that. So he just shrugged helplessly. "It's okay." He lay back down properly and turned his back on the other boy, mostly because the sigh scared him. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight", echoed what was barely a whisper.

Todd found it extremely hard to fall asleep again. He wiggled and kicked his covers until he slipped into a restless slumber. By the time he did Neil was still studying.

* * *

Miranda Perry – or Mrs. Perry, as she was so respectfully called – felt hopelessly lost while she looked at her son, watched him basically pleading for help right before her eyes. He was staring at her as his last resort, obviously hoping that she'd managed to make it all better in some magical way. Neil had never, ever asked his parents for help before, not even when he was a child. And now that he did there was absolutely nothing she could do.

She wouldn't be able to change her husband's mind. Not about this. If she had anything in common with her son it was that neither of them was able to find a voice against that man.

And then it was over. The verdict had been dropped. She didn't think she'd seen anyone appear quite as crushed as Neil did while sitting there, a somehow chilling look in his eyes. She would've given a lot if she would've been able to comfort him, to offer him sweet promises.

"Go on, get some sleep", she settled for instead.

But a mother knows, and while she walked out of the room a small part of her knew that she'd never see her son alive again.

* * *

_"See me, listen to me, please."_

_"Help me."_

_"I'm not okay."_

_"Please, don't do this to me."_

* * *

With his eyes closed Neil breathed deep, in and out. The crown's weight around his head didn't register. For the first time in ages he felt perfectly calm, completely at ease with himself. His hands weren't shaking anymore.

Perhaps this was taking the coward's way out. But wouldn't he have been just as much of a coward to let himself be forced into a life that wasn't his? To just let everything he cared about be stolen from him?

He was under no illusions. No matter what he might say his father would never, ever understand or allow his desire, his _need_, to pursue his own path. And the man wouldn't loosen his hold on his life even after he was a doctor. Everything he'd ever dreamt of… He could feel it slipping right through his fingers.

He hated the fact that he'd cause pain on his friends, his parents, perhaps Mr. Keating as well. He didn't wish any harm or ache on anyone. But what other choice did he have? It was like he said before, what felt like a lifetime ago. He was trapped.

He was finally taking control over his life, even if it was in the worst possible way. This was his only way out. His barbaric yawp.

Lifting the gun to his head he felt truly free for the first time in his life.

* * *

'_I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time._'

(Jack London)

* * *

**_End._**

* * *

A/N: GOSH! (takes a deep breath) Now THAT was a bit emotional to type. Poor, poor Neil! If only he managed to see another way. (sighs)

As I mentioned I'm a bit… shall I say hesitant about posting this. Soooo, it'd mean the world to hear from you. (glances hopefully)

Thank you so much for reading! Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing you guys again.

Take care – of yourselves, each other and all the Neils out there!


End file.
